


Gift Horse

by BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk



Series: Eternal Reveries [1]
Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, Hatchetfield Musicals - Team StarKid, Nightmare Time - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: (Don't Worry They're Not That Bad), (Well sorta spoilers because this is an AU), Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Christmas, Family, Gen, Jane Perkins Survives, Personal Headcanons Will Apply, Sisters, Spoilers for Nightmare Time Episode 3 Part 1, That Fine Line Between Fluff and Angst, This One Has An Eldritch Abomination Too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27082888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk/pseuds/BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk
Summary: The last response Emma gave to an invitation from her sister was "Next time." This year, Jane has invited Emma to celebrate Christmas with the rest of her family in the hospital.What if Emma went this time?
Relationships: Emma Perkins & Jane Perkins, Tom Houston/Jane Perkins
Series: Eternal Reveries [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976605
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Souvenir Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> time to fight canon by making a series of shots filled with happy what-could-be moments; yes i am fighting Nightmare Time as a concept

The annoying thing about Christmas with your family is that you have to get them all gifts.

Sure, they'll give you gifts too, but in this economy? Who decided gifts were supposed to be tangible anyway?

Emma Perkins stood inside the Guatemala airport souvenir shop. Her flight was in an hour, and she was buying gifts last minute. Tom Houston, her brother-in-law, was going to pick her up.

She fidgeted with her luggage, pacing around the shelves stuffed with colorful items and trinkets.

She blew a raspberry, clearly fed up, and just took a _ Buy One, Take One_ set of table runners. The bright weavings of purple, turquoise, and yellow were what lured her to it.

"Just need something for Tim..." She muttered to herself, internally facepalming at the realization that she was butchering her first gift to her nephew she hadn't even met yet.

She spent five more minutes looking until she gave up and went to the counter. The cashier asked for change, noting the large bill Emma used to pay for just two table runners (one of which was literally free).

"Sorry, I don't have any spare change,"

The cashier hummed, bending down to pull out a doll.

"Maybe if you buy this doll? It's the last one we have. Is there a child you know who would want this little horsey?"

The packaging said the doll's name was Whinny. Whinny was one of those cotton-stuffed dolls. Whinny's fur resembled the table runners Emma was willing to pay for, though they were predominantly orange in color. Whinny had glass-like eyes, black and empty. The box said that Whinny's eyes glow in the dark.

"Why's the doll in pieces?" This detail was peculiar, and Emma found it disturbing for a children's doll.

"Oh, it's meant to be packaged that way, Mam. Whinny can be rearranged and put together like that Frankenstein monster from the movies!"

Emma was considering whether the doll was a good idea to buy for Tim.

"Kids really like that thing, huh?" Something was weird about the doll, really. "I mean since's that's your only stock..."

"Well, we don't exactly accept refunds, Mam." The cashier replied back with snark.

"Fine, fine. Just give me the damn doll."

It had turned out that the price of the doll fit with the bill. Emma wondered if she would have been rushing less to her flight if she had just bought the doll right away. Most people would've gotten these stupid shopping things done days, if not weeks, before.

Jane was always good with gifts.

Once settled in the pretty average airplane, Emma looked at the Whinny Doll with a curiosity. A disdain followed, feeling as though she was staring at a mirror at the sight of Whinny's clearly disassembled nature.


	2. Silent Night, Holy Ride

Emma hummed to herself in irritation, exiting Arrivals.

The price of not going to your sister's wedding is being unable to meet your new brother-in-law, Tom Houston. 

Also known as the guy who was going to pick her up from Clivesdale International Airport.

Emma looked around, taking out her phone to find that Houston-Perkins family Thanksgiving picture she saved before she flew for the States.

The thought of Tom being relatively disfigured after the accident came to Emma very suddenly, leaving her to angrily keeping her phone.

That photo was useless. She decided to resort to asking.

"Excuse me," She poked at the back of a fairly exhausted man who wore a green jacket, "I'm looking for Tom Houston; are you Tom-"

"Houston?" He faced her, bandages on his forehead and cheek with two semi-healed black eyes, "I take that you must be Emma, then?"

"Hm, yeah," Emma nodded, internally grateful that finding her brother-in-law didn't take any longer, "that's me alright."

The sedan the two rode in was apparently a company car, and clearly, Jane's as well. The entire car smelled of _Febreze_ , and annoyingly so to Emma's usually numb sinuses.

It felt fairly new, and Emma almost forgot her sister’s family went through a car accident. The fact that Tom was capable of driving was a miracle.

"I hate to admit it," Tom began conversation once there was significant enough traffic to break, "but Jane never told me that her sister was out of the country."

"Until now?"

"Well, either she did or my...forgetful brain was back at it again," Tom could read the sarcasm radiating from Emma's voice.

“I see,”

“Yeah. Sounds like you’re doing well over there,”

If doing well meant hopping from inn to motel to inn, living on menial jobs to keep some disposable money in her pocket, hiking recreationally, and slowly developing a drug addiction, then sure. Emma Perkins was doing well.

“Sure, though that depends on what you mean by _‘doing well.’_ ”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m unemployed,”

“...figures.”

The two went quiet briefly.

“I’m happy you guys are safe.”

“Heh,” Tom glanced at Emma briefly before facing the road again, "Safe."

“Oh, what would I do if that,” Tom hesitated, as though struck by a pained memory, “...t-that fucking accident became a **nightmare**? It’s one thing for me to die right there— _Hell, I could’ve died even earlier_ —but Jane? God forbid, Tim? I-I’d be in pieces, Emma! I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“But that didn’t happen,” Emma voiced her train of thought, “It’s just some silly nightmare now, y’ know. Flash, bang, and all, but like, it’s fucking Christmas! I didn’t come all the way from Guatemala to fuck things up some more!”

She punctuated her response with a chuckle, but quickly shut up when Tom clearly didn’t want to respond.

The traffic then began to lessen.

“You know, um, Emma? Tim is very excited to meet you."

"He better, because I got a very nifty gift for him," Emma replied in a sing-song tone, gently shaking the one bag on her which had her last-minute Christmas presents.

"What'd ya get him?"

"A..." She tried to think quickly for a fitting adjective, "n-novelty, yes, novelty doll."

"Oh?"

"It's this cute little horse," Emma pulled out the box from the bag, "and you can attach and reattach the legs!"

"...what?"

"Yeah, the whole concept sounds weird, but I bet it’ll be more fun once you see Tim open it."

“It’s really hard to figure out what Tim wants,” Tom tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “It better be really good, Emma.”

“So...you’re saying that he won’t like it?!”

“That is not what I said—“

“Sure sounds like it,” Emma shoved the doll back into the bag. “What did  you get for him?”

Tom did not reply. He didn’t speak for a long time.

“Ain’t that one hell of a gift,” Emma mumbled quietly.


	3. Tim, Talking, Toys

_“Hello everybody! My name is Markiplier, and welcom—“_ Buffer,  _“—e back to Cuphead!”_

Tim Houston was seated in one of the chairs in the hospital room, earphones plugged into his ears and smartphone. The hospital wifi was clearly slow, which irritated the boy.

_ "Okay, so this is the end of it! I think. I'm not one hundred percent sure—" _

Knocking from the door made Tim pause his video, removing his gadgets and heading to the door.

The door opened before Tim could, revealing his dad and his long-awaited Aunt Emma.

"We're back!" Tom announced with as much joy as he could muster from his bruised face, "Tim, this is your Aunt Emma,"

Aunt Emma had quite a resemblance to Tim's mother. They had the same eyes, hazel with a heavy gray tint that manifested the lack of agency in their lives. Their brown hair was of the same shade. 

Aunt Emma was more tan than Tim imagined her to be, chalking that up to the sun in Guatemala. She strutted her winterwear with whites, blacks, and grays, so unlike his mother’s style, which was comparable to the Biblical Joseph’s rainbow dress.

"Hi, Tim!" Her voice was deeper than his mother's, "I'm so glad to finally meet you!" yet they had the same inflection in their speech.

Tim went to embrace her, which she received willingly.

“Ow!” He suddenly blurted out, making Emma back away immediately.

“Shi-Shoot! Tim, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright, Aunt Emma. Bruises take a while to heal, after all.”

“I’m gonna head out and get us dinner,” Tom cut in with a heavy tone, hand already on the knob.

“Oh, I could come with you,” Emma volunteered.

“No, Tim’s been needing an extra pair of hands for far too long,” Tom opened the door, “and you two should bond. It’s Christmas, right?”

** SLAM! **

The two blinked.

“Mom’s asleep,” Tim said, pointing to his mother’s hospital bed. 

The gesture immediately made Emma move, quickly placing the bags she carried into the room on top of the mini-refrigerator, then proceeding in a jittery but hesitant manner towards the hospital bed.

Emma glanced at Tim, who walked behind her. Tim had one black eye, bandages on his left cheek, as well as his hands. Standing still made her notice his very slight limp in walking.

“You alright?” She asked the boy in concern.

“What do you mean?” He asked, finally standing next to her.

“You know, if you don’t wanna move so much, you don’t have to, alright?”

“I know, but the nurse said that a little walking in the room would get the feeling in my legs back,”

“Are your legs numb?”

“No, but they feel like sprains when I move sometimes.”

“I think you should sit down then,” Emma pointed to the chair closest to the hospital bed.

“Okay,” Tim then proceeded to do so, clearly tired and eager to pick up where he left off before his aunt’s arrival.

Emma faced the hospital bed, now reasonably close to her sister in a long time.

The bed was elevated, with Jane Perkins on top of it under disheveled blankets like a plastic Christmas tree. The tubes pierced her like electric wires, the bubbling of the fluid within them akin to the sparkle of Christmas lights. There were bandages all over her, mostly on the left of her body, reminiscent of Emma’s trademark badly-wrapped Christmas presents.

Jane’s hair was already beginning to gray, bags under her eyes almost as dark and defined as Emma’s own. Her skin was paler than how Emma remembered it, patches of red from clearly healing bruises.

She was asleep, _“dreaming”_ as my late grandmothers would have put it.

“She looks kinda peaceful,” She thought out loud.

“What was that, Aunt Emma?!” And it was loud enough for Tim to pause the buffering Markiplier Let’s Play.

“Oh, i-it’s nothing, Tim,”

Tim peeked behind Emma to see his mother. Still asleep.

“...then who were you talking to?”

“Um—“

“Did you see a ghost?”

“W-What?”

“Kinda like those Christmas Carol stories where that greedy Scrooge guy meets ghosts and learns to love Christmas?”

“Well, I love Christmas," She lied. A little. "So that can’t be right.”

“Then, **_why don’t you come over?_** ”

Emma paused.

"Tim—"

Tim restrained himself, sighing.

“It’s the really big Holidays when Mom tells me something about you,” Tim kept his gadgets again, “Is it true that the best way to view the stars is from up a mountain?”

It was true. Hiking in Guatemala had something special Hatchetfield could not offer. Guatemala was an escape where all the right roads were. Upon those mountains were the sights of starry nights, the kind of shit master painters famously felt dreamy about. 

Emma didn’t have the strength to reply.

“Aunt Emma?”

“...can you repeat your question again, Tim?”

“T-the stars,” He was looked directly at her familiar eyes, “Do they look pretty from the mountain tops?”

Emma did not reply right away, heading towards her bags, pulling out that cursed doll she bought for Tim.

“It honestly depends, um, how a-and whether you seriously wanna get up there,” She said, box tightly held in her hands, “The stars won’t be so pretty if you don’t really want to see them.”

Tim got up, curious about the box.

“In my experience,” Emma turned to face the boy, “they remind me how little I—er,  **_we_** , actually are.”

Tim stared at the box.

“Is that for me?”

Emma didn’t exactly wrap the doll at all.

“Well, y-yeah!” She crouched a little, “don’t tell your Dad I gave this to you right away, but—“

“But he’ll find out anyway.” Tim took the box, Emma willingly letting him do so. “How will this fit in my bag?!”

“Okay okay,” Emma tried to calm the boy down. “But I’m still giving it to you now, okay?”

“Okay,” Emma then left Tim to play with the doll on the floor, going back to the hospital bed.

Tim stared at the rather plain plastic packaging, writing of note being _“Whippy Whinny Horsey”_ , _“Whinny's eyes glow!”_ , and _“WHIP IT UP!”_

Tim found it cool how the parts of the doll had to be assembled together like a puzzle. One thing he and his Mom had in common was this partiality to playing with pieces, whatever those pieces may be. 

However, Jane liked her puzzles abstract, where she picked apart people and psyches. Tim took from his father a liking to playing with more hands-on things, like machines and computers.

He began pulling out the pieces, attaching the right leg, then left arm, followed by the left leg, and then right arm. The stitch marks were clearly aesthetic; the pieces attached seamlessly. This fact was very pleasing to the eight-year-old. Tim deduced magnets were at play.

Tim’s busy joy halted when the head wouldn’t attach, squeaking as it landed on the floor. The same happened with the tail.

He kept trying. The horse had to be whole. His attempts kept on for some time.

On the other hand, Emma was still standing there, glancing at her sister, to the window, to the TV, to the bathroom door. Her staring cycled and cycled, until shifting from her peripheral vision caught her attention.

It was Jane, and she was stirring awake, every movement making Emma freeze in response.

Everything was going to change once she waked. Emma felt that deep in her frantic thoughts, with memories and unprocessed feelings rushing back to her like the flashbacks she witnessed from her brother-in-law on the way to that very room.

The talk was inevitable.

Jane's right eye opened slowly (the left was in bandages), all the color drained from her irises. Emma held her breath once their pupils seemed directed at each other.

“...Emma?” 

Her tone was in great disbelief, despite how weak she sounded.

“H-Hey, Jane. I guess I finally came, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the Markiplier video in question: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acQMtIRygK0&t=8s
> 
> Nightmare Time episode 3 has thankfully made this story play out better than I thought; I haven't seen it but SPOILERS are yummy and they are to be expected in the final part


End file.
